Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife

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Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife Page 3

by Fiona McArthur


  Tammy saw him smile at the thought of Louisa. So he did have a soft spot for elderly widows. The idea dangerously thawed a little more of her reserve and she reached for another unwanted biscuit to distract her concentration from this handsome, brooding man beside her.

  She felt his attention and when she glanced at him there was a sudden darkening of his eyes that arrowed that sharp sensation of hunger right back through her midsection. She felt the wave of heat between them like a furnace door opening.

  ‘Not again,’ he murmured. And then more strongly, ‘If you delicately consume another biscotti I will not be responsible for my actions.’ His voice was very quiet, and she realised they were alone at the table—in fact, alone at their side of the dance floor. The children shrieked with laughter in the distance just in view, Emma and Gianni were across talking to Louisa, and suddenly she couldn’t look away from him. Her stomach kicked again. She got the message.

  She wasn’t sure what to do now with the biscuit she didn’t want, but blowed if she’d let him know he’d rocked her.

  Did she look away and nonchalantly put it down or did she pull the tiger’s tail? There was no choice really.

  Unhurriedly, with great deliberation, Emma raised the shard of almond to her mouth. With her eyes on his she parted her lips with seductive exaggeration and slid it slowly in, and chewed. It was hard to swallow with a dry mouth but she did. Choking would have ruined the impact. To drive home her point she calmly licked the sugar from her finger. One raised eyebrow left him in no doubt of her message. Don’t dare me.

  Leon stood, took the arm that reached towards him—surely she hadn’t asked her fingers to do that—and Tammy found herself whisked back into the shadows with her hand in his. In an instant she was in his arms and his body felt warm and inflexible against hers. It had all happened so fast she doubted anyone had noticed she’d been abducted.

  His eyes glittered in the low light. ‘You do not follow orders well, I think.’ She barely heard him over the thumping in her chest as he stared down at her, and there was something primal about the tree branch casting shadows across his face. ‘This night has been filled with intriguing moments. I cannot allow it to conclude without this.’ He bent his dark head towards her with such intent she froze as he brushed her neck with his lips. She shivered and all the hair on her arms whooshed into an upright position on little mountains of goose flesh.

  ‘Your scent has been driving me wild all night.’ His words hummed against her ear and thrummed down her throat as his lips travelled the sensitive skin around her jaw. She’d never felt exposed and vulnerable and yet starving for more.

  His mouth took flight across her cheek like a hot moth that dusted both eyes before homing in on her mouth. Every nerve in her skin seemed to lean his way for attention, drawn to the light like a kamikaze insect, and she shuddered at the delicious sensations his whispered caress invoked.

  Somehow her arms had wound themselves round his neck and she could feel the sinew and muscle in his shoulders, rock hard beneath her fingers. He had the power to snap her in two and they both knew it.

  Then his mouth found hers, her stomach jolted and she swayed against him suddenly weak at the knees like an old-fashioned heroine. She’d never believed this would happen to her. A swoon from a man kissing her. It was ridiculous, and crazy, and…

  ‘It was a funny wedding,’ Jack said as he drove home with his mother.

  ‘Funny in what way?’ Tammy said extremely absently as she turned along the sweeping driveway out of the lakeside complex. When Leon had kissed her Tammy realised what she’d been missing for too many years. She’d kissed a few men, more to reassure herself she could get a man to the point, but never been enamoured enough to want to repeat the experience.

  With Leonardo Bonmarito she’d wanted to do more than repeat it. She wanted next verse. Next chapter. The whole darn book and she knew where that could leave her. She prayed he hadn’t realised because she’d managed to step back before she’d dragged the buttons from his shirt. But only just. So she’d stepped away further, called her son and left fairly quickly after that.

  ‘Just different.’ The childish voice beside her reminded her why she’d stepped away. ‘And that kid’s different too.’

  ‘Paulo? I imagine they’d be saying the same thing about you if you turned up at a wedding in Italy.’

  She glanced at Jack. Her miniature man in the house, whom she adored but had no blinkers about. ‘Which reminds me, you were impolite to push into that dance with Grace and Paulo.’

  He looked away from her and squirmed a little. ‘She didn’t want to dance with him.’

  ‘That’s not what I saw.’

  Jack sniffed and avoided his mother’s glance. ‘She danced with him later anyway,’ he muttered.

  Tammy dimmed her lights for a passing car. ‘I wouldn’t like to think you were rude or acting the bully to a visitor, Jack.’

  ‘I don’t like him.’ More muttering.

  Tammy frowned. Jealous brat. ‘Even more reason to be nice to him.’

  Jack sniffed again. ‘Like you were nice to his father?’

  Now where had that come from? Thank goodness it was dark and he couldn’t see the pink flooding her neck. Little ankle biter. She certainly wasn’t going there. Of course the children hadn’t seen. ‘Yes.’ She took the easy way out. ‘Did you all have fun playing spotlight?’

  She caught the movement of his shoulder beside her as he shrugged. ‘He was scared half the time.’

  The dark cloud of uneasiness slid new tendrils through her mind. Tammy glanced at her son and then back at the road. ‘Why do you think he was scared?’

  Jack swivelled and she could tell without turning her head that he was looking at her. ‘What would you do if a man tried to kidnap me?’

  Tammy blinked at the unexpected question and her hands tightened until they were almost white on the wheel. Someone take her son? Harm Jack? Threaten to kill him? ‘Tear him limb from limb.’ She shook the power of the unexpected passion off. Good grief, there’d been some emotional roller-coasters tonight. ‘What made you ask that?’

  Such a little voice from the darkness. ‘He said it sometimes happens in Italy for ransom money.’

  ‘Who? Paulo?’ She’d read of it but didn’t want to think about such a crime actually happening. Europe was a long way from Lyrebird Lake. ‘Well, let’s hope someone doesn’t want to ransom you.’

  Then he said it. Explained it. Let loose the cloud that turned from dark to black. ‘Just before they left to come to Australia somebody tried to take Paulo. That’s why they didn’t get here till yesterday.’

  That couldn’t be true. ‘What do you mean? Who did?’ She slowed the car, then slowed it some more, which didn’t really matter because there wasn’t that much traffic around Lyrebird Lake. It would be better if she didn’t run into anyone.

  ‘They don’t know. His father caught them before they could get away but they put a bag over Paulo’s head and knocked him out.’

  Tammy’s heart thumped under her ribs and she shivered at the thought of someone attempting to steal a child. Any child. Her child.

  Then she remembered how she’d been less than diplomatic about Leon’s reluctance with the children’s game and she winced. Every instinct urged her to turn the car around and apologise to Leon for her ill judgement. Poor Paulo, poor Leon. And the kidnappers had struck a child. ‘Paulo told you this?’

  Jack was losing interest. ‘No, Grace did. Paulo told her.’

  Good grief. No wonder Leon hadn’t wanted him to play spotlight. It was amazing he’d let his son out of his sight at all. She glanced at Jack. ‘If that’s true, even you should understand why he was scared in spotlight.’

  ‘I guess.’ He looked at his mother. ‘You’d find me, wouldn’t you, Mum?’

  She stretched her arm across and ruffled his hair with her fingers. The strands were fine and fragile beneath the skin of her fingertips and the sheer fragment of the concept of lo
sing him tightened a ball of fear in her chest. ‘I wouldn’t rest until I did.’

  Jack snuggled down in his seat. ‘I thought so,’ he said, and yawned loudly.

  Tammy was glad to get to work the next morning. The night had been a sheet-crunching wrestle for peace that she’d only snatched moments of and this morning a rush to get a tired and cross Jack through the fence to Misty’s house.

  Leon Bonmarito had a lot to answer for. She’d walked straight into a birth and thankfully hadn’t given the man a thought for the past three hours.

  Tammy wrapped the squirming newborn infant in a fluffy white towel and tucked him under her arm like a football. Little dark eyes blinked up at her out of the swathe and one starfish hand escaped to wave at her. She tucked the tiny fingers in again and ran the water over his head as she brushed the matted curls clean. She grinned at his mother. ‘I haven’t seen such thick hair for a long time.’

  Jennifer Ross watched with adoration as the little face squinted and frowned at the sensation in his scalp. ‘He’s gorgeous.’ She sighed and rubbed her stomach and her son turned his head in her direction.

  ‘Thanks for rinsing his hair for me, Tammy. I’m just not up to it.’ Even in the dimly lit corner of the room where the sink nestled Tammy could see him try to focus on the familiar sound of his mother’s voice.

  ‘We’ll just use water today. We’ll bath Felix properly tomorrow so we don’t overload his poor nose with baby bath perfume.’ Tammy combed a little curl onto his forehead and smiled. ‘He needs to feel secure, with your skin and his smelling the same as he remembers from inside you. It all helps with establishing breastfeeding. Like the way you waited for him to find the breast and didn’t push him on for that first feed.’

  ‘I can’t believe he moved there himself.’ Jen’s face was soft with wonder.

  ‘He’ll do it again too. That’s why it’s better not to wash your own hair with shampoo the first twenty-four hours. A strong scent like shampoo has can confuse and even upset his nose during that time.’

  ‘I’ll let Ken’s mum know when I ring her. She likes a heavy perfume but she’s a sweetie. She’ll give it a miss if I ask.’ Jen reached out and touched his little hand that had escaped again. ‘I remember when you told my sister only Mum and Dad should snuggle babies for the first twenty-four hours. She swears her second baby is much more settled.’

  ‘Best practice. But sometimes it’s hard to manage when everyone wants a hold.’

  Jen rubbed her stomach again. ‘Better to do it right. If the after pains get much worse I might not have a third one,’ Jen said with a rueful smile.

  ‘Have a lie-down. You’ve had a big day and there’s a warm wheat pack on your bed. I’ll bring Felix in when I’ve dressed him and check your tummy.’ She cast her eye over the mum and decided she looked okay. ‘Let me know if you start to bleed more heavily.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’ Jen smiled and turned gingerly with her hand holding her stomach. ‘I’m looking forward to that wheat pack. Ken’s so disappointed he wasn’t home for the birth. And I have to ring his mother and sister as well.’

  ‘Since when do babies wait for truck-driving daddies? Ken will just be glad you’re both well. Off you go. I’ll be in soon.’ She narrowed her gaze as the other woman hobbled out. Tammy wished Ken could have made it too. She wanted every mother’s birth to be perfect for them but sometimes babies just didn’t wait.

  When Ben brought Leon in to see the unit Tammy had just towelled Felix’s hair dry. She was laughing down at him as she tried to capture the wriggling limbs and they’d moved to the sunny side of the room as she began to dress him. The early-afternoon sunlight dusted her dark hair with shafts of dancing light and her skin glowed.

  For Leon, suddenly the day was brighter and even more interesting, although his tour of the facilities had captured his attention until now. Strangely all thoughts of bed numbers, ward structure and layout seemed lower in his priorities than watching the expressions cross this woman’s face. And brought back the delightful memory of a kiss that had haunted him long into the night in his lonely bed.

  ‘Hi, there, Tam,’ Ben said as he crossed the room. Tammy looked up at her father and smiled. Then she looked at Leon and the smile fell away. He watched it fall and inexplicably the room dimmed.

  ‘Hi, Dad. Leon.’ She looked at her father. Or perhaps she was avoiding looking at him, Leon surmised, and began another mind waltz of piqued interest that this woman seemed to kick off in him. ‘What are you men up to?’

  ‘I’m showing Leon the facilities. His board’s been thinking of adding maternity wards to their children’s hospitals and I thought you might like to hint him towards a more woman-friendly concept.’

  Leon watched the ignition of sharper concentration and the flare of captured interest. She couldn’t hide the blue intensity in her eyes and silently he thanked Ben for knowing his daughter so well. So, Leon mulled to himself, he’d suddenly become a much more interesting person?

  ‘Really?’ She tossed it over her shoulder, as if only a little involved, but she couldn’t fool him—he was learning to read her like a conspiracy plot in a movie, one fragmented clue at a time.

  She dressed the baby with an absentminded deft-ness that reassured the infant so much he lay compliant under her hands. Mentally Leon nodded with approval. To handle infants a rapport was essential and he was pleased she had the knack, though it was ridiculous that such a thing should matter to him.

  When the newborn was fully clothed she nestled him across her breasts and Leon had a sudden unbidden picture of her with her own child, a Madonnalike expression on her face, and a soft smile that quickened his heart. More foolishness and he shook his head at the distraction the fleeting vision had caused.

  Tammy tilted her determined chin his way and Madonna faded away with a pop. ‘I’ll just take this little bundle into his mother and come back.’

  He watched her leave the room, the boyish yet confident walk of an athletic woman, not a hint of the shrinking violet or diffident underling, and he was still watching the door when she returned. That confidence he’d first seen was there in spades. She owned the room. It seemed he activated her assertiveness mechanism. He couldn’t help the smile when she returned.

  She saw it and blushed. Just a little but enough to give him the satisfaction of discomfiting her and he felt a tinge of his awareness that he’d felt the need to do so.

  She looked away to her father and then back at him. ‘What sort of unit were you looking at?’

  Enough games. ‘Small. One floor of the building. Midwife run and similar to what your father has explained happens here, though with an obstetrician and paediatrician on call because we have that luxury in the city.’

  He went on when her interest continued. ‘It would be situated in a wing of the private children’s hospital we run now. The medical personnel cover is available already, as are consulting rooms and theatres.’

  She nodded as if satisfied with his motives and he felt ridiculously pleased. ‘We promote natural birth here and caseload midwifery. Do the women in your demographic want that sort of service? What’s your caesarean rate, because ours is the lowest in Australia.’ She was defiant this morning. Raising barriers that hardened the delicate planes of her face and kept her eyes from his. He began to wonder why she, too, felt the need. Molto curioso.

  ‘I’m not sure of the caesarean rate—obstetrics is not my area—but in my country most of our maternity units are more in the medical model and busy. Often so understaffed and underfinanced that the families provide most of the care for the women after birth.’

  Tammy nodded and spoke to her father. ‘I’d heard that. One of my friends had a baby in Rome. She said the nurses were lovely but very busy.’

  He wanted her to look back at him. ‘That is true of a lot of hospitals. This model would be more midwifery led for low-risk women.’ He paused, deliberately, before he went on, and she did bring her gaze back his way. Satisfied, he c
ontinued. ‘Of course, my new sister-in-law, Emma, is also interested and I believe there is a small chance you and your son could come to Italy in a few weeks?’ He lifted the end of the sentence in a question. ‘Perhaps the two of you could discuss what is needed and what would work in my country that is similar to what you have here.’

  Tammy intercepted the sudden interest from her father and she shook her head at Ben. ‘I haven’t even thought much about the chance of travelling in Italy.’ Liar. The idea had circled in her head for most of the night. ‘I won’t say your idea of setting up midwife-led units isn’t exciting.’ But that’s all that’s exciting and you’re the main drawback. She repeated the last part of the sentence to herself. ‘But thanks for thinking of me.’

  He shrugged those amazing shoulders of his, the memory of which she’d felt under her hands more than once through the night despite her attempts to banish the weakness, and she frowned at him more heavily.

  ‘It is for my own benefit after all,’ he said.

  She remembered Jack’s disclosure, and the idea she’d had to apologise if she saw him, but it wasn’t that easy. All the time they talked, at the back of her mind, she wanted to ask about Paulo, about the truth in Jack’s revelation, and to admit she hadn’t understood his reserve and his protectiveness. But it didn’t seem right with her father there just in case Leon didn’t wish to discuss it. Or she could just let it go.

  She owed him an apology. ‘Maybe we could meet for lunch and talk more about your idea,’ she offered, though so reluctantly it seemed as if the words were teased out of her like chewing gum stuck on a shoe. He must have thought so because there was amusement in his voice as he declined.

  ‘Lunch, no. I’m away with your father for the rest of the day but perhaps tonight, for dinner?’ His amusement was clearer. ‘If I pick you up? My brother and I share a taste in fast cars and we could go for a drive somewhere to eat out.’

 

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